Road Signs
by timeworn grace
Summary: Even if you really don't like him, can you drive by him when he needs help?  And when someone you really dislike does you a solid, how do you repay him?


Road Signs

If there is one thing Kurt Hummel can do well, besides singing like an angel and looking fabulous, it is this: he can change a tire.

So, when he's driving home through a cold, sleety February rain on a dark evening after an extended Cheerios practice, even though he's freshly showered, and his hair is just exactly the way he likes it, and even though he's wearing new boots that will never recover from contact with the road salt and sand, he finds himself pulling over when he recognizes Puck's beat up, ancient truck parked (sort of) on the side of the road, hazard lights blinking irregularly. He seriously thinks about just driving past, because, well, it really wasn't been that long ago that the guy had had a seriously annoying habit of tossing him into the dumpster on a regular basis. But it's cold, and wet, (and dark) and they are "teammates." And Puck just looks so_ frustrated_ -

- yep, there goes the tire iron into the woods.

Already in mourning for the boots (and really, he should just_ leave _a pair of work boots in the Navigator, it would just make _sense_, since he has coveralls and gloves in the back already) he turns on his own hazards as Puck turns to squint into the headlights, and digs out the umbrella that matches his coat from under the passenger seat. He thinks briefly of changing into the sneakers he has in his bag, but they're special cheerleading sneakers and Coach Sylvester might actually murder him as an example for the rest of the cheerleaders if he destroys them in the late-winter slush. So, with an eye-roll at his own reflection in the rear-view and another sigh just for pure melodramatic effect, he climbs out of the Navigator and opens the umbrella.

The jack's clearly broken, and Puck is hucking it into the woods after the tire iron when Kurt approaches. "That's littering," he says by way of hello, because he might be just about to rescue Noah Puckerman, but he doesn't have to condone that sort of behavior. And he doesn't have to be _nice_. "And you might need that tire iron," he continues, ignoring the slightly murderous expression on Puck's face as he turns around and recognizes the figure under the umbrella. After all, if he was going to let _that_ look bother him, he'd never get through the day at school.

"What do you want, Hummel?" Puck growls, because all he needs for this annoying, skinny _gay kid_ from glee club as witness to his total guy-fail. He is kind of taken aback when Kurt takes a flashlight out of his pocket and hands it to him.

"Go get the tire iron, Noah, while I get my jack." Puck watches the small figure trudge back to the SUV, around to the back, and heads into the woods to look for the tire iron. He hadn't thrown it far, thank god, not like the broken jack, which he'd really hurled. He'd known he was gonna need it.

When he gets back, Hummel is waiting with a tool bag, and is setting up the jack, even though he's had to put the umbrella away, and the rain has already plastered his hair flat so it's dripping into his eyes. "Get out of the way, Hummel," he says, "before you ruin your manicure."

Hummel shoots him that patented Kurt-Hummel-bitchface, but he gets up, and Puck finds he is perversely gratified to see that Hummel's as wet and grubby as he is now. (And those shoes, well, boot-things, will never be the same, he's pretty sure. Why Hummel insists on clothes that you can't really wear outside if there's any weather at all is one of the things Puck can't for the life of him figure out. He's gotta be more high-maintenance than any of the girls, and that's going some.)

Still, the kid moves out of the way, taking the flashlight from Puck and training it on the offending tire.

Kurt opens the umbrella again, moving over a little closer to hold it over Puck; it would be easier to do the work without rain dripping into his eyes. Puck shoots him an irritated glance. "You don't have to do that, your megawatt headlights are more than bright enough. Besides, don't you, like, melt in the rain?"

Kurt looks down with a shrug. "What a world, what a world," he mutters, making Puck snort. "Just thought you might want the help. Were those lug nuts machine tightened the last time you had them rotated?" He glances back at the truck's other tires, behind him, flashing his light over them. They're very nearly bald, and he grimaces. "Have you ever even _had_ them rotated?"

Puck ignores him and begins positioning the jack under the frame. Kurt studies his boots - he' been right, the slush and road salt would be the death of them, and his feet are now freezing and wet. He looks idly back over at where Puck's working, and nearly drops the flashlight. "What are you _doing_?" he demands. Forgetting who he's with for a second, he nudges Puck with a knee. "Get out of the way."

Puck rises to his feet, one fist clenched. "Problem, Hummel?" he growls. "Because, thanks for stopping, but I got this."

Kurt rolls his eyes, refusing to back down. "That's not a jack point, jackass," he returns. "Your frame is more rust than frame, and if you jack it up there, it'll fall on you and I'll be reading about you in the papers - and did you even loosen the lug nuts yet?"

"Like you've ever had to change a tire," Puck mutters.

"Noah," Kurt begins with exaggerated patience, "What is the name of the biggest tire place in Lima?"

"How should I know, Hummel?"

Kurt shakes his head and pulls a leather business card case from his pocket. He takes out a card, and hands it to Puck. In the light of the flashlight, Puck reads, "Hummel's Tire and Lube." Huh. He looks back over at Kurt. "So?"

"How many tires have you changed, Noah? Not _flattened_,_ changed_?"

"Counting this one? None, yet. I... haven't had the truck that long."

"Right. Take the flashlight, and the umbrella. Do NOT dump water down the back of my neck. And we never speak of this again." Kurt takes the tire iron from him.

Puck glares at him. "No way are you changing my tire, shrimp."

Which, Kurt thinks, is not very original, but less hateful than what Noah usually calls him.

"'Look, I'm already soaking wet and freezing, and so are you. I know how to do this. I change a couple dozen tires a week at my dad's shop. I'll be happy to show you how to do it on your own, but not in the dark and the rain. Or, I can go wait in the nice warm Navigator and watch you kill yourself. I promise to dial 911 when the truck squashes you."

Puck find himself accepting the umbrella and watching as Kurt kicks a chock into place under one wheel, and then goes to work on the lug nuts, even though he has to get Puck to help him wrestle the tire iron to loosen the most stubborn one.

Puck has to admit, watching him move with an efficient, practiced ease, Hummel knew what he was doing. Not the first time that the kid had surprised him; could have knocked Puck over with a feather, as his grandfather used to say, when Hummel had tried out for football, and again when he'd shown that he could really kick. And when he'd come through to win the game. And... And this line of thought was really getting annoying. All right, Hummel had some surprisingly manly skills.


End file.
